Good Friends

I looked at her studying on my bed, from my place at my
desk. Every week she came over, sometimes more often. I
thought it was a ruse to get to flirt but I wasn't going
to bring it out into the open. It was more enjoyable to
just enjoy her company and conversation as she gave it.

We had been friends for over two years. This past year we
had gotten much closer, each of us telling the other
things we had never told friends before. Since a few
months ago, the teasing we often used with each other had
become more and more sexual. I wasn't sure what to think,
as she smiled and touched my arm while she flirted. It
was always in front of others, in public, so it was safe
for her.

Watching her bent over her book, reading so intently she
didn't notice me staring, I wondered how she really felt.
I had been having dreams lately that I woke from
disturbed and excited...

Just last night I had dreamed I was dancing with a woman,
dressed in heels, skirt, blouse, and surreally, a black
feather boa. We had circled each other, gradually moving
closer, then she was pulling me to her. I pressed my hips
against hers, as she pushed me back upon the couch behind
me. I sat abruptly, and she moved between my legs,
rubbing against me, still kissing me deeply.

Dazed, I moved my left leg behind her, difficult because
of the skirt I wore. It slipped up my thighs and she ran
her hands up to my bare hips, grinding herself against
me. I felt myself getting wet, warmth flowing inside me.
Our mouths opened further, I moaned as she slipped her
hand into me, her tongue sliding into my mouth as
sensually as her fingers touched me.

Then I was awake, confused and more than a little
alarmed. I remembered her dark curly long hair, piled on
top of her head, soft spiraled curls floating down over
her ears, and blushed lips.

I whispered, gay? Me? At the least, the thought of sex
with a woman excited me, or my subconscious. The more I
thought about it, sitting in that dimly lit room, with
the Christmas lights glowing at the steamy window, I
realized I relished the idea.

I got up, throwing the sheets aside, and went to the
window. I leaned my forehead against the window, watching
my breath condense on the icy glass. Looking at the white
birches far below, I shivered. They swayed back and forth
like dancers to a beat I couldn't hear, beckoning to me.

I opened the window, letting in the freezing air. The
breeze carried in the scent of wet earth and snow and old
leaves, whipping the papers s**ttered on my desk around.
The hills were almost black in the distance,
distinguished from the sky that was full of brilliant
stars shining above. I stared out the window, losing
myself in the cold breeze that blew over my flushed skin.
After becoming aware that I was shivering, I leaned out
and drew the window handle to me, shutting it.

Getting back into bed, I felt a wetness between my
thighs, and reached down to see what it was. My hand came
back glistening clearly in the soft colored light. I
lifted one finger to my lips and tasted it. With the
residue of salt on my lips, I leaned back and shut my
eyes. What would another woman taste like? I wondered.

I imagined putting my hands on soft breasts, nipples
asking to be mouthed, then stroking down along a rounded
stomach, beside the dimple of the navel... Into the curve
between strong thighs, my fingers surrounded by curling
dark hair, into a familiar yet strange wetness and
warmth, a body breathing and arching under my gestures.
As my mind drew me into this imaginary experience, I let
my own hand pull up my nightgown, bunching up the fabric
above my breasts to reveal my arousal.

The coolness of my searching fingers made my nipples
darker, harder. I felt the echo of the swelling I
summoned deeper inside and drew in a small shallow
breath. In my mind, I moved down further on the bed, my
lips tracing the curves of the anonymous woman beneath
me. I didn't see her face, only the light breaking over
her body, the shadows as mysterious as her sex. I
caressed her body, feeling the ladder of ribs under her
taut fair skin, their rising and falling increasing with
my attention.

I bent down and placed my mouth to the intersection of
her, my hands smoothing over her thighs, lowering to
taste her as she let her thighs drift apart. I looked
surreptitiously at the rose-colored folds and the
glistening hair above them, sliding her open further with
my hands, to see the wetness gathered there.

Her scent reminded me of musk and vaguely of the sea. I
tasted it on my tongue, feeling my own body respond to
her low moans. I brought her smooth calves above my
shoulders, and let her responses guide my movements.
Under my lips, I felt her fevered skin tremble, her legs
shudder in my arms. Her head was thrown back, her breath
coming in gasps. She had thrown her arms back behind her,
and was grasping the bed frame, quivering up and crying
out more and more.

I savored her movements and taste, each moan bringing me
intense enjoyment. In my own bed, I bit down on my bottom
lip to choke back my loud groan of release, corresponding
to her orgasm in my imagination. My eyes squeezed closed,
then I opened them with a sigh, relaxing again into the
warmth of the covers. sleep came quickly, and I dreamed
of things and people that disappeared from my mind as I
woke the next morning, but left me with a sense of
unfulfilled desire. I didn't remember any more scenes
with the dark-haired woman.

*

I went through classes as usual, but in the back of my
mind was a new undercurrent that rose up every so often
to remind me of my leanings. I passed women on the way to
lecture halls who returned my gaze, and in their eyes I
saw they knew it was not out of friendliness that I
looked at them, and that their curiosity was returned.

Walking around campus was now filled with sly glances
and blushes, not all mine. I smiled thinking about it,
pretending I was listening to a lecture about
linguistics. The professor misinterpreted my small smile
and half closed eyes, and looked at me bewildered but
with his own smile. This amused me more. My smile got
bigger. Classes went on and on, and now I was looking at
my study partner in my room.

She flipped a page in her thick hardcover book, mulling
over the literature of the 1800's. I reached behind my
stereo to pull out a cassette, and inserted it into the
machine. Pressing "Play", I knew the music would disturb
her and knew also that was why I was doing it. I wanted
to talk. As the first notes started up, she looked up
from reading questioningly. I smiled and asked "Do you
mind taking a study break for a few minutes? My notes are
starting to look like secret code."

"No, no I don't mind at all. You have any soda left? My
throat is killing me from that cigarette."

"Yeah, coke or ginger ale. Which do you like?" I bent to
open the fridge, waiting for her reply.

"Ginger ale."

I picked out the plastic bottle and poured some into a
mug. The foam crept over the side, I dipped my finger to
it and wiped it off, and absentmindedly sucked the liquid
off my finger. I looked up to see her looking at me
oddly. Actually oddly was not quite the right word. It
seemed more like a realization surfacing. Of what I
wasn't sure. I got up from the chair and handed the cup
to her, turning it so she could grab the handle. Instead
of taking it that way though, she let her hand slip over
mine.

I stood there by the bed, holding this cup, unsure of
what exactly to do next. I smiled nervously, my tongue
moistening my lips. She let her hand linger a moment
longer, enough so I was now painfully aware of her body
heat and the subtle softness of her fingertips pressing
into my hand. She took the mug and took a sip, keeping
her eyes on my face. I didn't sit back down immediately
but paused, watching her. As her tongue darted out and
licked the rim, curving around the edge, I realized the
rather unpleasant sensation of my heart racing, and my
palms getting moist.

Oh God, I was so unsure. Maybe it was just my deranged
mind that was misinterpreting her actions, I didn't want
to make an absolute fool of myself and lose her
friendship. She held my eye, and licked her lips,
mimicking me. She stretched her arm out and put the cup
down on my desk, then rearranged her body on the bed, so
she was sitting there cross-legged, hands under her chin.

"Why don't you sit on the bed? Standing there doesn't
look too comfortable."

Unthinking, I climbed up on my own bed, and sat next to
her. She kept her body angled away, then reached out
again, this time to grab her book and open it back up to
where she had stopped. Her hair fell forward, hiding her
profile. I looked at her sitting there, at her bright
hair flowing over her shoulders, revealing the pale skin
at the back of her neck, and the hem of her shirt, that
curved down closely over her torso.

Before I could think about what I was doing, I had leaned
forward and reached up to turn her face to mine and was
kissing her deeply. Inwardly shocked at myself, I reached
down and pushed her book away. She didn't protest, but
instead pulled me closer. Her mouth, tongue, smell, hair,
breasts, were all I knew. My hands were under her shirt,
pulling it up, over her head, tousling her glossy hair.

She lifted her arms to the ceiling as I unclasped her
bra, stroking the topography of her back as I did so. The
lace and nylon bit was thrown to the floor along with her
shirt, and soon the rest of her clothes were there too.

Her lips turned up into a secretive smile, looking at me,
sitting on the blanket casually, her legs open.

"So, do you like what you see?" she whispered, then
leaned to me.

The next time I opened my eyes, I was naked too. She
embraced me, and lowered me to the bed. We lay side by
side, feeling the warmth of each other's bodies down the
edges of our hips and ribs. My hand trailed over her
ribs, into the valley of her waist, then up over her hip,
down her thigh.

At my touch, she turned to face me and opened her legs,
letting one dangle over the edge of the mattress.

She was as excited as I was, I soon discovered. I held my
breath as I touched her, gingerly pushing a finger into
her, letting the heat and moisture take me in. I put in
another, and stroked her rhythmically, watching her rock
back and forth against my hand. Something was warming in
me, I felt myself loosening up.

Then I bent over her prostrate body to take in a nipple.
I took it into my mouth, sucking it gently then harder,
increasing the pressure to a light bite that she shivered
at, letting out a quiet drawn out "yes". I sucked at her
like a baby, feeling her getting harder between my lips.
I moved my hand out, slick with her wetness, caressing
her lips, up to her center, then down again, then up,
liberally covering her. I let my fingers slide to the top
of the folds, and frigged the nub lightly.

She shuddered hard and pushed down towards me. She had
spread herself out fully on the bed, her mouth opening to
draw in breath then close into a tight line to suppress
moans. Her cheeks were flushed pink, heightening the
whiteness of the rest of her face. I pushed myself lower
over her, then pulled her legs apart, holding a calf in
each hand, feeling the muscles in them tense as I sucked
her.

She had abandoned all pretense at modesty now, and was
now moaning openly. I loved the sound. She pushed herself
up against me, trying to get me to give in to her demand
for instant satisfaction. I felt myself sliding down
towards the end of the bed, along with the quilt and
blanket. Regaining my position, I forced her back up, and
paused to smile at her. Frustrated, she growled and said
sternly "I wouldn't start a job then leave it unfinished
if I were you."

I laughed, and responded by nipping her. She squealed,
then quieted again as I resumed. The slickness on my lips
had spread to my chin, bringing up disjointed memories of
Thanksgiving turkey dinner. I pushed these thoughts away,
concentrating on the sounds filling the tiny dorm room.
As I did, I felt a sympathetic wetness between my thighs,
as I moved closer to her. My skin dragged on itself,
pulling the sensitive folds back and forth.

I gasped, tightening my grasp on her legs. I closed my
eyes and forced myself to concentrate on her alone. She
was now moving regularly to meet me, the movement of her
and taste was increasing to a climatic point. Her shriek
did not go unnoticed, by me, or I'm sure, by my
suitemates.

Her orgasm was glorious, matching her expression. She
quivered, then relaxed, drawing herself up, to take me
into her arms and hold me. I kissed her lightly on the
mouth, letting her taste herself. She licked my lips and
smiled, drawing me down with her to the bed. I closed my
eyes, and let myself go to her attentions, with the
thought that Christmas vacation was almost upon us, what
a glorious two weeks that might be.